


Reno

by KingKarate



Category: Cobra Kai (Web Series), Karate Kid (Movies)
Genre: F/M, Kissing, Pastor Bobby, Season 3 Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-01
Updated: 2021-01-01
Packaged: 2021-03-11 02:16:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,234
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28487433
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KingKarate/pseuds/KingKarate
Summary: A volunteer at Bobby's church hears about Johnny showing up during a service, and asks Bobby about the little story Johnny decides to tell.
Relationships: Bobby Brown (Karate Kid)/Original Character(s)
Comments: 13
Kudos: 11





	Reno

**Author's Note:**

  * For [StrikeLikeACobraKai](https://archiveofourown.org/users/StrikeLikeACobraKai/gifts), [AtmosphericFantasy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AtmosphericFantasy/gifts).



> I knocked this out in a few hours after finishing season 3. I love Bobby, a lot, and I absolutely need more.

_What. A. Day._

In the middle of the church service, some drunk guy showed up and started yelling at the pastor during a sermon on forgiveness. These things happen from time to time, especially with a pastor as easygoing as Robert 'call me Bobby' Brown, but very, very rarely do they start talking about the pastor’s own youthful misadventures in such detail. It's even rarer for said pastor to sweep the drunk's leg out from underneath him, cut his service short, and dismiss the congregation with a polite apology.

I moved to California a while ago, from the kind of rural town where going to church is less a matter of faith and more a social obligation. I guess old habits die hard, because just about the first thing I did, after I'd settled into my apartment, was compile a list and tour the local churches in the area. It turns out, the first one I walked into, just around the block from my place, was _the one._ I was barely through the doors when I ran smack into a wall of solid muscle, and looked up into the most brilliant blue eyes I think I've ever seen. Not what you expect to find in church. 

“Easy there,” he said, steadying me with a firm grip on my upper arm, and giving me such a bright smile that I was completely charmed. 

The rest, as they say, is history. I'd become more involved with the community aspects of the church - mostly just little things like helping out in the crèche or cleaning up after services. Nothing major, just enough that I’d have the occasional excuse to stick around a little later than everyone else and chat. Not that I _need_ an excuse, since he’s always so willing to lend an ear to just about everyone who wants it, but sometimes… I don’t know. I guess I feel guilty taking up his time when others are so clearly in need. And on the flipside, I find myself wondering _who_ Bobby opens up to, and _when_ he gets the chance.

That’s why when one of the younger volunteers comes back into the side room I’m in to tell me what’s happened, I take a little longer going about my chores. I leave the coffee cake, Bobby’s favourite, out on the side, because I know if he’s having a deep and meaningful talk in there he’ll want to do it over something sweet. He says it makes the bitter truths easier to bear, or something like that. Gosh, he’s so kind, and it’s a trait that’s hard not to admire. That’s what men of God are _supposed_ to be like, right? But in my own personal experience that’s still all too rare, inside of the clergy or out. 

I’m almost done, and the last thing left is to pull the vacuum cleaner out of the closet and head into the nave, where in between rows of pews, it’s fairly likely someone, big or small, has left a trail of crumbs, or something sticky, down on the carpet. I see mostly-empty box of coffee cake up on the stage, and a whole mess down on the floor in front of it. I’m dragging the cable back across the room to a socket when I hear a noise, and look up to find Bobby walking back in.

“Hey, you don’t have to do that,” he gives me a tired smile, waves me back from the cake all over the carpet. “I’ll get it.”

I respond with a firm look. “I’ve got it already.”

Bobby bites his lip, licks over the same place in a way I don’t think he knows he does. “Alright. Can I get you a coffee? I think I need one.”

“Sure, thanks.”

I manage to get this section of the floor clean by the time he comes back, carrying a tray. He sets it down, then picks up his drink and leans up against side of the stage.

“Interesting day, huh?” I ask, taking my own.

That earns me a wry smile. “You could say that.”

A comfortable silence stretches between us as we sip our coffee, until Bobby lets out a soft sigh, and I can see him physically relax.

“ _So…_ Reno, huh?”

“You heard about that, then?”

“Not enough.” I chuckle. “What do I have to do to get the full story?”

“Nobody’s getting the full story about _Reno_. _”_

“You think I’ll look at you that different? What were you, some kinda degenerate before you got ordained?”

He grins, a flash of teeth, and he hunches forward with his coffee, laughing softly. “Something like that.”

It draws me right into his mood, and I find myself stepping closer, not caring so much about personal space when I reach across him to place my mug somewhere safe. 

“Well, now I’m just _curious.”_ My hand brushes against his thigh when I pull back to stand. 

Bobby looks up at me, like he’s suddenly aware of my proximity, and he’s starting to get the idea my interest might not be entirely platonic. It’s measured, calm, quiet, in the way that Bobby has, like he never makes a move unless he’s exactly sure he knows how it’s going to land. I don’t know what to make of it, when he puts his drink down too.

Something in me panics, I start to move away, opening my mouth to mumble an apology. Then I feel his warm, steady touch on my wrist, holding me in place. It wouldn’t take much to break his grip, it’s barely even there, and yet I’m glued to the spot. I don’t know if I’m supposed to make another move or not.

“Bobby,” his name comes out on a sigh that was supposed to be a self-deprecating laugh. I clear my throat and try again. “I’m sorry, I was inappropriate. You-”

I’m cut off when his fingers tighten around my wrist and he tugs me closer, his other hand on the back of my neck guiding my face to his. His lips brush mine, softly at first, then more insistent when I don’t back away. I kiss him back, and it’s alarmingly chaste, but I guess anything else would be wrong, given the setting.

I’m smiling when he pulls back and rests his forehead against mine.

“I’m not a priest,” he says, and there’s that thing he does with his mouth again, the thing that makes me want to wilt. “I am _allowed,_ you know?”

“I know that, just didn’t know if you’d want to. I’ve never seen you with anyone.”

Bobby pulls away and looks heavenwards, with a _‘can you believe this’_ kind of expression. He shakes his head and looks back to me. “And do you still have to wonder why that could be?”

“I _think_ I’m getting the idea,” I say, bringing my hand to settle against the back of his neck, feeling the softness of his skin, and lean in to kiss him again. It’s even better the second time around.

“So….” he teases, mirroring the way I worked up to ask him about his little adventure in Reno. “Can I take you to dinner sometime?”

“Yes, of course. On one condition.”

“And what’s that?” 

I take a deep breath, let the smile spread slowly across my face. “Only if you tell me about soccer moms and the Hyatt.”


End file.
